


On the Train

by fieldsofwildflowers23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieldsofwildflowers23/pseuds/fieldsofwildflowers23
Summary: Remus loves trains, he always had, ever since his childhood. On one particularly long train ride, he meets an interesting young man. With him the ride passes quicker than he ever thought it would. But will they stick together even after the ride is over?
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 4





	On the Train

Remus Lupin loved riding trains. Ever since he was a kid and his mother allow him to go on a day trip to the city with her and they had to take a two hour train ride to get there. Remus never got to go out much as a kid. They lived in a small cottage, far far away from any other civilization. Days like those were his favorite. Him and his mother would wake early in the morning, get ready to go, then drive their light blue 1967 beetle down to the train station to catch the 6 o'clock train. They could've just driven to the city, but it took about an hour longer, and gas is expensive, so they took the train. Remus prefered it that way anyway. Then they would have a two hour train ride, most of which was spent with Remus' face pressed against the glass as he watched their surroundings go by in a blur. Remus' mother just read the newspaper and idly sipped her tea. 

It wasn't just the outside of the train that Remus loved, it was the environment on the inside of the train. Dark wood booths with deep red leather seats and dark wood tables. The dark wood floors, the olive green painted ceiling with dark wood trim. The soft yellow lights overhead. It was beautiful. You could watch the people come and go, all of them different and unique individuals. You could make up a story for them in your head. Where they came from and where they are going. 

As Remus recalled these memories, he wondered if the train could've been the reason he became an author. Because he liked stories, and his imagination loved to make them up about anyone and anything he saw. 

Yet another reason for him to love trains. 

When Remus used to go to the city with his mother, they had done lots of things in the city. It was mostly errands, like getting groceries that they couldn't grow on their own, and the market 'close' to them didn't carry. They would get Remus new clothes and books. Even a few times they would stop at a local cafe or restaurant for lunch. Despite all of this, the train ride had still always been Remus' favorite. With the soft hum of the engine, the everyday sounds of other people chatting with each other, the clinking of porcelain as the train rumbled along. He loved it. 

After his mother had passed away, Remus had avoided riding trains. He was afraid that, without her by his side, he wouldn't love it like he used to. He didn't want to ruin all the good memories associated with long train rides. So when he was given the option by his publisher to a. ride the train or b. ride the plane, he had been inclined to ride the plane. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to ride the plane in the slightest, so here he was, on a train. 

Remus was pleased to find that he still enjoyed it just as much as he had when he was a child. Sure, it brought back memories of his mother, but Remus thought he actually enjoyed the memories. He liked remembering these memories of her, rather than the memories that were the most fresh in his mind. The image of her pale sunken skin, the shadows beneath her eyes, the outline of her bones that were easily seen through her skin. How before she had died she had been to weak to talk. She just looked at Remus, her eyes so full of love, but missing that spark. That spark of life. Of hope. 

Remus had known she would die. Long before she got this sick. But Remus had thought he would be ready when she did. He was not. Not in the slightest. 

He had been with her when she died. He had seen the light go out in her eyes. He had seen her stop breathing before she flatlined. He had felt a part of himself die a little inside with her. He had hugged her lifeless body close and cried. He cried for what felt like hours before the doctors had to pry him off his dead mother. 

Remus shook his head, desperately trying to not remember those memories right now. Instead he decided to look around the train at the people around him. He found himself doing the same thing he did when he was a child and making up the life stories of the people around him. 

Across the row from his booth sat an elderly woman. She wore a small yellow hat that looked like it would've been the height of fashion in the 1970's. She had short curled grey hair, and wore a navy blue blazer with a white blouse, and a yellow skirt. She was also wearing tan pantyhoes and black flats. She looked like your stereotypical fashionable old british woman. Perhaps she was heading to visit her grandchildren who she hadn't seen in a year or two. Or maybe she was headed to the opera because she used to go to the opera with her husband before he passed and she goes sometimes on her own to honor his memory. Maybe she was headed to her favorite boutique to pick out a new hat. 

Remus smiled at that one, and shifted his gaze to look at the others on the train. There was a young boy, probably a high school student, sitting alone at a booth. His back was pressed against the window and his feet were up on the bench. He was looking at his phone which his large black headphones were plugged into. The boy set down his phone and leaned his head back against the window, his eyes falling closed. Remus couldn't help but wonder what he was listening to. From looking at the boys appearance, most would probably think some of the offencive rap music that was popular with teens lately. But Remus knew to not judge a book by it's cover. Perhaps he was listening to classics like 80's and 90' rock, or possibly cheesy pop songs from the early 2000's, or maybe he was listening to showtunes because broadway was actually his guilty pleasure, but he was too scared to try out for the school musical. If that were true, Remus would hope that the boy would realize that the status quo is bullshit to keep people inside of simple labels that make it easier for society to accept us. Remus would hope the boy would realize this and try out for the school musical, and maybe make some new friends that would last him a life time. 

Remus looked at the booth in front of him and him and his eyes landed on a young man. The man had long wavy black hair that was tied back into a loose bun, although there were multiple loose strands falling into his face. He had tan skin and wore a large black jacket, a white t-shirt, and ripped light wash jeans. His feet were placed on the bench opposite him, and what Remus assumed to be a sketch book was pressed against his legs. He thought sketch book rather than journal, mostly because of the way the man was writing on the paper. The strokes seemed too long and wide to be writing, also he had stayed on the same page for far too long for it to be a journal. The man's head was bent over the sketch book, but every once and a while he would look up in Remus' direction, stare for a few moments, then look back down at the sketch book. The man wore a pair of black wire glasses. Remus assumed they were a sort of reading glasses, as every time he looked up he would remove the glasses, and when he looked back down he would put them back on. He was an intriguing person. Most people were in Remus' opinion, but there was something about the man that drew Remus to him. The man looked up again, like he had been often doing, but this time when he looked up his eyes met locked with Remus'. 

The man startled, and was sent reeling so hard that his sketch book was flung to the floor. At this Remus raised an eyebrow at this, curiously. He moved to the other side of his booth and leaned over the bench, "Are you alright?" 

The man, who had bent down the the floor to pick up his sketch book, jolted upright when he heard Remus' voice, hitting his head on the bottom of the table. Remus winced at the bang that the mans head made when it hit the table, and shot the man a very concerned glance. 

"Who? Me?" The man asked, gesturing to himself. At Remus' nod the man laughed uncomfortably, "Oh, I'm fine,"

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah, I fall out of chairs and hit my head on tables all the time," The man cringed at his own words, and Remus let out a soft laugh,

"Whatever you say, Although, may I ask what about me made you fall out of your chair?" 

At this the man's face flushed slightly, "I uh- I don't know what you're talking about?" 

At this Remus rolled his eyes, "Oh please, I'm not daft, now, what was it?" 

The man flushed even darker, "Well, uh, I'm an artist, and I draw people, and they don't usually notice, so when you were looking at me I got startled,"

At this Remus blushed slightly, now embarrassed for some reason, "You were drawing me?" He asked, like it was the most unbelievable thing in the world, because it really was. At his question the man nodded, his embarrassed stare not leaving the ground. Remus was beyond confused, "Why?"

The mans head shot up and he looked at Remus in confusion, as if asking him to explain exactly what he was asking. Remus shook his head, trying to find the right words, "I mean- why me? I'm not special or interesting, there are a lot more interesting people on this train that you could've drawn, why me?"

The man looked at Remus as if what he was saying was the stupidest shit he had heard in his life. "What are you talking about? Have you seen yourself? You're beautiful," The man said, as if he was just stating facts.

Remus felt the blood rush to his cheeks and he knew that right now his face was as read as a tomato. He started to deny what the man had said, but the man cut him off, 

"And you don't get to deny it, because I can assure you that you are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind, and if you do try to change my mind, I won't hesitate to shower you in compliments until you die from being complimented too much,"

Remus somehow blushed even darker, but the man's face was completely serious and not flustered at all. "I-" Remus started, but the man glared at him darkly in warning, "Ok," Remus sighed, looking down at the ground. 

They stayed like that for a little while. Remus leaning over then bench and the dark haired man staring up at him from his spot on the ground. Finally Remus broke the awkward silence, "What's your name?" 

He looked back at the man, and the man grinned, "Sirius Black, and you?"

Remus smiled, "Remus, Remus Lupin,"


End file.
